The Life of a Celebrated Buccaneer

by Richard Clynton

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  In spite of what Will Dogvane had said to the contrary there wasdiscontent in the Buccaneer's island. Now the sound was far away; now itsurged up and dashed against the old gentleman's ears like the angrysurf upon the sea-shore. It is necessary to make some little mention yetof the cause of this disaffection. His toilers and his moilers wereundoubtedly very much better off than what they had been, andconsiderably better off than those of many of his neighbours. Theyearned more wages, and worked less hours, and in recent years wages hadincreased nearly twofold; but it must be owned that they were lessthrifty, and loved too well their pewter pot. His population, however,had increased to such an extent, and other nations had entered into suchcompetition with him, producing many things as good and as cheap, andeven very much cheaper, that he had lost the control over the markets ofthe world, consequently many even of the skilled hands were idle, andfor the unskilled, the weakly, and the sick, their case was stillharder, yet every mouth had to be fed, and every body clothed. All kindsof medicines were prescribed by the multitude of doctors, who wereforever trying to treat the disease. Then behind those above alluded tothere came a gang who would only work at cutting throats and pickingpockets, and who were always ready to join in any cry, or any movement,that might tend to advance their particular calling.

  The carpenter had addressed the family of Hodge on more occasions thanone, and he had told them that they were the most pathetic figure in thewhole of the Buccaneer's social system, for that they were condemned tounremitting toil, with only the poor-house before them. Alas! that thecry should ever come from honest Hodge that all he asked for was work.This poor fellow does commend himself to the sympathy and compassion ofall; for the sunniest side of his life is to work with bent back andhorny hands from sun-rise to sun-down. But he was not the most patheticfigure in the Buccaneer's island. Behind him Poverty came strugglingalong, and with barely food enough to keep body and soul together,brought forth and increased without the slightest thought for themorrow. Pity was forever trying to help her, and over her sad lot sheshed an abundance of tears. The old coxswain tried to reason with her;but all to no purpose, she clung to her wretched hovels and held on herown way. Nature took her in hand occasionally, and taught her a lessonin a rough and ready fashion. Our universal mother is not soft-hearted,and she never spoils her children by sparing the rod, so when Poverty'sfamily becomes overcrowded, she works off the surplus by disease, whenthe guilty and the innocent suffer alike. Is not Mercy to be seenstanding in the back ground?

  The old Buccaneer thought to find some healing power in the fruit takenfrom the tree of knowledge, so that Poverty's children partaking thereofmight learn somewhat of the blessings of thrift, temperance, industry,and self-denial. But is not the fruit of this tree somewhat like thatflower of which a celebrated friar once said:

  "Within the infant rind of this small flower, Poison hath residence, and medicine power."

  In the above nature of things lay the root of very much of thediscontent. The tools lay ready for the worker's hands. The worker beingthat human wind bag, called an agitator; one who would find fault withthe order of things even in heaven itself.

  This wind bag is forever holding up before the eyes of his dupes apicture painted in the most gorgeous colours; plenty without labour, anda general basking in the sunshine of idleness. He points the finger atwealth, and cries out with a loud voice, "There lies the cure for allyour suffering; see how high above your heads the rich man looks. Gotake, eat and be merry, to-day live, for to-morrow you die." To theempty stomach, and the ragged back this doctrine has a pleasant sound.Neither is it without its effect upon that large multitude who have toearn a scanty living by the sweat of their brow. The uncertainty of thedaily bread; the fear of sickness, and the cry of hungry children openthe ears sometimes even of the well disposed. Then amongst many otherthings, man is by nature a lazy animal, and will not work except in rareinstances, unless necessity compels him. Take the noble savage of whomhonourable mention has already been made. He only hunts by compulsion;for want of food in fact, which, having found, he lies down and sleeps,and idles his time away until necessity prods him in the stomach again,and sends him off to his happy hunting grounds. Man is the same whereverfound, and if anybody will provide him with food and clothes, withoutany exertion on his part he will not say him nay, nor will he show muchgratitude. He will soon learn to look upon it as a right.

  There were a good many kind-hearted people in the Buccaneer's island whowere doing all they could to develop and foster this innate love ofidleness. Already the people had their food for the mind given to themfree of charge in the shape of free libraries, and soon the cry for freefood for the body might be expected to rise up all over the land, to befollowed in due course by a demand for community of property. This,indeed, was already being whispered about. It is an unmitigated evil totake from the individual the responsibility of keeping himself, andbringing up his family. He will not work if you do, and the train ofpoverty becomes increased, and there is no limit to the extension. Asthe Devil even is supposed at times to quote Scripture, so do the windbags, who play upon the wants of the people, frequently base theirdoctrine of universal plunder upon the teachings of Christ. But did nota small band of early Christians try this share and share alikeprinciple? But it did not answer, and see what has come of it. The pomp,magnificence, splendour and wealth of the Roman Catholic Hierarchy withits Priest-King. Who too would think that the pride and majesty of theBuccaneer's State Church with its High Priest clothed in temporal aswell as spiritual power took its rise from the teachings of Him, whogathered on the shores of the sea of Galilee a few simple and faithfuldisciples to whom He preached the doctrine of humility, chastity,poverty, and love, and a charity as bountiful as the rain which fallsfrom heaven on flowers and weeds alike. Did He not say to them "Provideneither gold nor silver, nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for yourjourney, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves; for theworkman is worthy of his meat?" Ah! the meat, sometimes called hire;there lies the rock upon which so many run, and their frail barks areshivered to pieces; allured to their destruction by the songs of a sirencalled Mammon.

  But the priest he has a stomach as well as the layman. He has a back toowhich must be covered, and he has his many other wants that must beattended to. One has taken to himself a wife, and he would fain have hisLord excuse him, on her account. Another has many children who have tobe fed, clothed, and taught, and put out into the world. Then thingshave changed since the days even of St. Paul. Wages have very muchincreased, and around religion there has grown surroundings that must beattended to for the sake of the uncrowned queen Respectability. Ask nothow all these mighty things have been brought about. Without doubt, theBuccaneer's High Priest or anyone of his learned ecclesiastics couldexplain all to you in a most satisfactory manner. They would tell youhow the Scriptures have to be construed to suit the needs of modernChristians. The mighty "_This_" has he contracted and the small "_That_"has to be stretched; but so long as an orthodox priest sits upon the boxof your coach and four, it matters little where, and through what hedrives.

  Briefly, it may be said, that community of property has no charm exceptfor that class of a community known by the name of rogues and vagabonds.Then, as if the very Devil was in it, the Buccaneer's women werebeginning to cry out for more liberty, and disaffection seemed to havetaken a strong hold upon the female breast. The advanced portion ofthese wanted to overturn the present order of things, and to put up inits place, a sort of Hen Convention in which women were to have equalrights and apparently man's privileges as well as their own. To tellthese women that they had a sphere, was merely to excite their ridicule,and court their contempt. But the strangeness of the thing was, thatwhile the men were crying out because they had not work sufficient tokeep them in many cases from starving, the women wanted to increase thedifficulty still more by entering the same fields of labour. Of coursepoor women must live, and if men are so selfish that they will
not keepthem in the Holy bonds of matrimony, why, the women must keepthemselves. It is true that the men did show an indisposition to setupon their hearth a rival, who instead of attending to domestic duties,might give them a political lecture or a discourse upon either ethics,philosophy, or science. The women too out-numbered the men; spinstersgrowing more numerous every day, and as it is well-known that themortality amongst the males of all species is far greater than thatamongst the females, on account of the greater risk they run, the aboveevil might be expected to increase rather than diminish, unless naturetook the matter in hand and balanced matters by an epidemic amongst thewomen. But as matters now stood, the conspiracy amongst the Buccaneer'sfemale sex bid fair to be far more serious than that of the cook'scaboose.

  It has been said that the man who allows a woman to usurp his authorityis in a pitiful condition, for that it shows he has lost somewhat of hismanhood. One thing is certain, the woman he has to live with will notrespect him, and it is more than probable that she will take theearliest opportunity to show her contempt. It is still worse when thisapplies not to an individual here and there, but to the majority of apeople.

  What voice is that crying out that we insult the whole of womanhood?Good lady, if you cast aside your bodkin, and take up the weapons thathave hitherto been considered as peculiar to man, you must not cry outwhen you feel yourself injured. You cannot have your cake and eat ittoo. "A foolish woman is clamorous; but a good woman retaineth honour."So said one, who is accounted the wisest man that ever lived.

  It does not appear that the true position of woman in the world'seconomy has yet been clearly defined. She was once man's slave. She isnow supposed, in all civilised countries, to be his helpmate andcompanion, and in the Buccaneer's island she showed a strong dispositionto become his rival. Poetry has assigned to her a place amongst theangels; reality, on the other hand, has frequently given her a placeamongst the devils. Then again she is supposed to be weak and fragile,but though she may not be able to walk a mile in pure fresh air, shewill dance many, and several nights a week in the fetid atmosphere of aball-room. Although she takes little or no healthy exercise, the generalwoman's appetite is good if not absolutely robust, and although they areall more or less invalids, they generally outlive man. A recentphilosopher amongst the Buccaneer's people had said, when speaking ofwoman, that though eminently adapted to that position for which Godapparently intended her, she is not from her constitution and make,adapted to take man's place in the world, and by attempting such a thingall concerned must lose. Unfortunately, the Buccaneer's advanced womendid not seem to see this, and they seemed disposed to quarrel with thework of our Creator. The woman's character is conflicting. When she isdrawn by her sister, she does not at times appear in too beautifulcolours; for she is frequently depicted as vain, silly, jealous, weak,cruel and revengeful, often kissing the sister she intends to stab, andin this resembling somewhat those reptiles which slobber over the victimthey intend to devour. But is it the model or the artist who is atfault?

  From history we learn that the presence of woman upon the earth has notbeen an unmixed blessing, for she seems to have caused as much sorrow asever she has joy, and the estimation in which she was held in ancientBiblical times is pretty well manifested by the author of the MosaicCosmogony, who attributes to her the damnation of the whole human race.Through her first act of disobedience man first tasted of the cup ofmisery, and she has been holding the cup to his lips ever since.Constituted as woman is, was it not cruel to place an injunction on thatfatal tree? for, tell a woman not to do a thing and she is prettycertain to do it. Of course our first father did not act overhonourably. If he had been imbued with the principles of modern chivalryhe would have screened Eve; have sworn, perhaps, that she was not at allto blame, and finished up by flinging the apple at the tempter's head.But man ever had, and always will have an ungodly stomach, and so Adamtook the apple and did eat. Notwithstanding the chivalry aforesaid it isgenerally believed that there are more Adams in the world now than whatthere are Josephs, and if the trial of the apple came over again, manwould fall even as he fell before, though he were to be ten times moredamned. It is a thousand and one pities that the arch Fiend did not waituntil Eve had become a little old and ugly, for then Adam might haverefused the apple and the whole human race might have been saved.

  The Essenes would not marry, not because they denied the validity of theinstitution or its necessity, but because they were convinced of theartfulness and fickleness of the female sex. Then again, the Buddhistbelieved, if he does not believe, that no woman could attain a state ofsupreme perfection. The accomplished woman becomes man.

  Read where we will, and what we will, and let us bend our steps whitherwe like, and we find that woman is generally believed to be at thebottom of everything. We are told that Metellus Numidicus, the censor,acknowledged to the Roman people in a public oration that had kindnature allowed us to exist without the help of women, we should bedelivered from a very troublesome companion. But, though man stillgrowls, poets still sing about woman, lovely woman, and though mansometimes finds her a devil, painters still depict her in the form of anangel, and man's imagination fills heaven with beings in her shape andlikeness.

  To be just; has not woman somewhat to complain of? Was she not madeafter man, and, as some think, of the refuse material? Then again hasshe not been sent into the world with, on an average, five ounces lessbrains than the allowance given to man? And has she not, from the verybeginning, been obliged to bear patiently, and for the most part withmeekness, all these slights and insults? And to finish, was she not madeas a meet and fitting companion for man? Who will be so impious as tosay that she was spoilt in the making? Alas! we cannot do without her;no matter how uncomfortable we may at times be with her; and a smile, ora tear, on a pretty face will blot out and efface all the splutteringsthat fall from the pen of ill nature.

  What man is there who has not created in his mind some womanly idol, andhere often lies the misfortune; for idols will fall and break intothousands of pieces; but until the catastrophe happens, we worship atour shrine and look upon fair forms with heavenly faces; bright radianceis shed over every feature, and we are in an atmosphere free from allimpurity. We look up to and adore a being whose soul is never clouded bya base thought; whose chaste and cherry lips never give utterance to atainted word. One who can be pure without being a prude; gentle andcharitable without there being a suspicion even of foolishness; one whocan be sensible without being masculine, and innocent without being avain and frivolous idiot.

  Do I dream? Hush then! do not wake me. Let me wander on, if only for abrief space in the realms of fancy. I will build for myself castles, andwill people them with fair fantasies. What lovely faces do I see! fitindexes for pure and intelligent minds. Complexions never touched by thepaint soiled fingers of Art, but as delicate as the petals of a lily,with the faint blush of the setting sun resting upon them, the wholecrowned with a woman's glory dipped in sunshine and not in dye. Whatlovely forms, clothed in silver sheen and girdled with golden belts madein the armoury of the King of Day!